


Cry

by sadlittlepeachesandplums



Series: Quentin and Eliot Drabble Collection [5]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: 3x06, Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, and quentin is a sweet bean that everyone loves but what else is new, the stupid motherfucking depression key thinks it has a right to be anywhere near quentin coldwater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 08:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13700385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadlittlepeachesandplums/pseuds/sadlittlepeachesandplums
Summary: Quentin has had the depression key for too long.





	Cry

They’ve been passing the key around. Alice had it for a while, then Josh, then Julia and then Quentin again. He’s curled up on the floor of his bedroom at the physical kids cottage when two pairs of shoes appear in front of him. And then two pairs of knees, and two sets of hands. And then he’s being manhandled until there’s a large warmth at his back, and a smaller warmth at his front.

Margo wraps her arms around his stomach, rests her head on his chest. Her shampoo is a somewhat familiar comfort as her legs tangle in his. Behind him, one of Eliot’s hands come up to comb through Quentin’s hair, soft and easy. His breath is like fire on Quentin’s chest.

And for a few minutes, they just lie there, on the floor together. He thinks he’s finally going to get some peace.

_“They just feel bad for you._ ” Of course he’s back. He’s not sure why he thought he’d get more than a moment with the manifestation of everything wrong with him reminding him why he’s worthless. “ _You can’t honestly believe they care about you. They just pity yo_ u.”

Quentin bites down on his bottom lip. It’s not true. It’s not true. It’s not true.

“ _The only reason Eliot even stayed with you in that other life is because you two were on a quest. You think he cares about you? He just cares about getting magic back. You’re fucking pathetic_.”

“Stop it,” he whispers, closing his eyes as tears sting at them.

Margo’s arms tighten around him and she pulls back. “Q,” She says, soft, almost like she’s a different person who’s kind and understanding and who’s he kidding? That’s all she’s been for months. He can’t keep holding onto the beginning. Everything’s changed. They’ve changed.

“ _You haven’t_.”

“Q, whatever he’s saying. He’s wrong.”

“I know—“

Eliot stops stroking his hair and leans forward, nosing at the length of Quentin’s neck. “You’re okay,” he breathes into the skin, as his nose bumps against Quentin’s jaw. “Ignore him. He just wants to hurt you.”

“ _No, I just know you_.”

Quentin nods, reaching up with one hand to latch onto Eliot’s elbow. He can feel his pulse there, if he squeezes just right. Somehow it calms him down, every time. Just another memory from a life he didn’t actually live...

“ _Do you really think you should live any life? God, you let him die in his sleep, alone. How fucking pathetic_ —“

“Quentin!” Margo exclaims, sounding almost as if she’s been trying to get his attention for ages. She pulls away from him and sits up. Quentin opens his eyes to gaze up at her, feels the tears he’s trapped leak down his cheeks. She leans down just enough to wipe them away, “Where’s the key, Q?”

“It’s safe...”

She shakes her head. “You’ve had it for weeks. Ever since Julia. Give it to me.”

Eliot sits up, and Quentin immediately aches for the warmth.

“ _God, you’re pathetic. You claim you don’t love him yet you can barely go five minutes without needing him touching you. What kind of sad loser are you_?”

“I can handle it.”

Eliot shakes his head, leans down as well, hand swiping up and around Quentin’s waist, to settle on his hip bone. “Q, we know you can. But it’s time to let someone else hold this. You’re losing yourself.” He pauses, licking his lips, “ _I’m_ losing _you_.”

“ _Great job, dipshit. You keep hurting everyone you claim to care about_.”

“Don’t look at him!” Margo growls, grabbing Quentin by the cheeks and making him look at her. “Tell me where the key is. I’m not Julia. I can handle it so you can take a fucking break.”

“Margo—“

“For Christ’s sake, Q. You’re crying. Do you even realize?” She loosens her grip, cupping his jaw with both hands, “I know you doubt it sometimes. But I care about you. Eliot cares about you. Everyone downstairs cares about you. You’re loved, Q. And we want to help you. And if you make me say one more sappy thing I will kick your ass to Timbuktu and back without so much as a sorry.”

His jaw trembles as tears flow over his cheeks freely. “Margo...” he starts, but Eliot pulls him back against him, wraps him up in his warmth so tight that Quentin can feel his heartbeat against his back. “You don’t want this.”

She shrugs, “And?”

“It—“

“ _Give her the key. Be the shitty friend you are. Let her suffer instead of you. Be greedy. That’s all you’re good at. Take, take, take. Can’t you be considerate of anyone else?_ ”

She grabs his face again, forces him to look at her. “Quentin. Where’s the key?”

Quentin’s eyes dart back behind here, where everything awful about him starts to open his mouth, before he squeezes his eyes shut and nods towards his nightstand with a sob that wrenches it’s way out of his gut so hard he’d topple over if Eliot weren’t holding him.

“ _You’re so fucking weak._ ”

“I know,” he whimpers as Margo pulls away and crawls over to the nightstand.

Eliot rests his head atop Quentin’s. “You’re okay,” he breathes into his hair, “We’ve got you. I’ve got you, Q. I’m not going anywhere.”

He barely notices when Margo touches the key. She grabs onto his hand with the one not holding the key. “Nothing’s gonna happen,” she says. “It’s okay, baby, you can cry. We’re right here.” And he doesn’t know if it’s the softness or the term of endearment, or the steely gaze she shoots across the room at the nothingness, but somehow, it helps.

Somehow.


End file.
